


Little Things

by Jya



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Car Accidents, Fluff, Hospitals, Injury, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-08-16 14:50:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8106475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jya/pseuds/Jya
Summary: When your boyfriend drives a fast car, you always have that worry lurking in the back of your mind that you're going to be woken up in the middle of the night by a phone call saying he's been in an accident. 
Tsukishima receives that very phone call one night.





	1. The dreaded phone call

**Author's Note:**

> This is just something I threw together this morning. Sorry for any typos.

RING

Tsukishima flopped around in his bed, the sound of his ringtone having incorporated itself into the strange dream he’d been having about the sport goods store he worked in. The store had expanded to nearly four times its size, somehow now fully stocked with a bar and restaurant he’d been forced to serve alone because his idiot shipper/receiver who’d been designated to the restaurant had called in sick. He’d just been about to take a woman’s order when he heard his ring tone. But how? There was no way? He’d left his phone in his locker, as he always did! He knew he’d be fired if he were caught with it on the sales floor. Just as his manager approached him with an angry look on his face, he woke up.

But he phone did not cease ringing.

He felt himself panting, the adrenaline from the embarrassingly stupid dream working its way through his system.

He glanced over and saw the light of his phone from his night table. Picking it up, he glanced at the name on the screen. He couldn’t see well without his glasses, but he recognized the string of hearts next to the jumble of letters that his boyfriend had put next to his own name after stealing his phone.

He continued to look at the screen, puzzled. Kuroo had been working late tonight, and it wasn’t uncommon for him to head over to a friend’s house with coworkers after.

Tsukishima decided he was probably being pocket dialed, and placed the phone back down on the nightstand, still dazed and half asleep.

He concentrated on evening out his breathing. But his phone vibrated again. Three short vibes.

A voicemail?

That was unusual.

He picked up the phone, detached the charging cable, and through blurry vision, managed to punch in his voicemail code. He expected to hear the phone rustling around Kuroo’s pocket, or maybe some background voices.

But that wasn’t it at all.

“Heyyy Tsukki.” Kuroo’s voice sounded off, as though he was shaken, or maybe getting sick. He didn’t sound at all intoxicated like Tsukishima knew he sometimes was with his work buddies. “So I’m at the hospital right now. I’m ok, don’t freak out or anything, but maybe call me when you get this. Sorry if I woke you up.”

“To erase this message press – “

The phone slipped out of his hand. He laid there for a second, waiting for his heart to start again.

He frantically sat up, flicked on his light, pushed his glasses up his nose and dialed his boyfriend’s number.

Ring ring

Ring ring

Ring ring

_Come on, pick up the phone!_

The ringing stopped. Someone had answered. There was a rustle against his ear.

The seconds felt endless.

Until finally…

“Hey,” a soft voice that sounded completely unlike his boyfriend’s usual prominent tone answered.

“Kuroo! Are you ok?” He demanded. His voice sounded crumpled and scratchy. “What happened?”

“Well, I was coming home from Suga’s place, driving along the highway when out of nowhere a motorcycle clipped the back of my car. I spun out and hit the barrier.”

“Holy shit!” He sat up straighter, all hesitation gone from his own voice. “Are you ok?”

“I think so. The paramedics insisted on bringing me here to get checked out.”

“I’m coming over there,” Tsukishima says, pulling himself out of bed.

“Don’t. Wait until morning. They won’t let anyone in other than family right now.”

“But Kuroo!”

“Get some sleep, Tsukki. I’ll call you in the morning.”

“Ok.” The line went dead.

And Tsukishima burst into tears.

Kuroo always drove too fast. He had always dreaded getting a phone call in the middle of the night informing him that something like this had happened.

But now that it had, he was more terrified than he could have imagined.

He didn’t sleep. He laid there all night thinking, worrying, crying. It wasn’t like him at all and he knew it. He, Tsukishima Kei, never got rattled. He didn’t care enough about people to worry like this. Things had changed so much since he’d started dating Kuroo. He felt things. And he didn’t like it. But he couldn’t stop it.

As the sun began to illuminate his room, he picked up his phone again.

He dialed the number to his work. He knew the Sunday manager was always there at the crack of dawn.

He could barely keep himself together as he explained that his best friend had been in a car accident. They didn’t know he was dating a boy. They didn’t need to know. She simply asked if he was ok, and when Tsukishima croaked out that he didn’t know, she simply told him to hang in there, and to call if he needed anything.

He pulled himself out of bed and dressed himself in a pair of charcoal grey yoga pants and a white crew neck sweater. Ducking into the bathroom, he avoided his own reflection as he brushed his teeth and washed his face. He knew his eyes were red and puffy from crying.

His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he quickly opened the message from Kuroo.

> Kuroo: Still here

He typed back a quick response.

> Tsukishima: I’m on my way
> 
> Kuroo: Can’t just rest and relax, can you?

He sighed slightly. That was a more Kuroo-esq comment. It didn’t calm him much, but at least he knew he was alive.

> Tsukishima: Nope. Room number?
> 
> Kuroo: 413. See you soon.

As Tsukishima quickly pulled his rain jacket around him and slipped on his shoes, he wondered if he wasn’t in fact allowed to visit last night, or if Kuroo had just been trying to keep him away. It wasn’t like Kuroo to push him away, but it was like him to put Tsukishima’s health before his own. He would tell him he wasn’t allowed to visit if it would keep him from losing sleep. Too bad he hadn’t slept anyway.

No one else in his house was up, so he jotted a quick note simply saying he went to study before work.

Just as he was about to leave, he stopped and grabbed his backpack. It had his laptop and school books in it. He decided he wasn’t leaving that hospital until Kuroo left. He’d deal with his parents later.

He picked up his keys and let himself out of the house.

The streets were dead, as you’d expect for a Sunday morning at 7:43am. He could have sped all the way to the hospital, but he was cautious. The roads were slick, and he didn’t need to involve himself in an accident of his own.

His heart raced as he parked, purchased a parking ticket that would last all day, and raced into the building. He’d only been here once before, and like now, he’d been so frantic that any sense of direction gained in this building had been lost. But he wasn’t stupid. He managed to find his way up to the fourth floor of the patient ward, and hurried down the hall to room 413.

His breath caught in his throat as he caught sight of his boyfriend.

Kuroo was propped up in bed wearing a soft white cervical collar and his right arm in a sling. His eyes were both black and his face was littered with cuts. He had an IV and wires attached to him at strange angles. But what shook Tsukishima down to his very core, was Kuroo’s hair. His hair always stood up at odd angles. No matter what he did, it never sat flat. But right now, it did just that. His hair was completely smooth on his head, and it unnerved Tsukishima. It made him look younger and timid and defeated, three things that Kuroo definitely was not. Ever.

A half smile fell across Kuroo’s face as he saw Tsukishima.

Tsukishima felt himself choke up, tears filling his eyes again.

“Tsukki, don’t cry,” Kuroo said softly, reaching out his left hand.

Tsukishima approached him carefully, sniffling and attempting to get himself under control. He knew he needed to be strong for Kuroo, but it was harder than he’d expected. He took his boyfriend’s hand and let him pull him onto the edge of his white linen bed. The sheets were hard and scratchy, and the blanket covering Kuroo was thin and pathetic. It made him want to cry even more.

Kuroo squeezed his hand and looked him gently in the eye. “I’m ok,” he said, wrapping his good arm around Tsukishima’s shoulders. “It looks worse than it is.”

“Really?” Tsukishima asked, though it sounded like more of a whine than a question.

“Yeah, this little needle is working wonders,” Kuroo said, gesturing to an IV attached to the back of his right hand. “I can’t really feel anything.”

“What’s wrong with your arm?”

“Broken clavicle,” Kuroo said with a grimace, a hint of sadness in his words.

Tsukishima sighed. The words didn’t need to be shared. A broken right collarbone did not bode well for a volleyball player.

“And your neck?”

“Just whiplash,” he said, as if it were nothing at all.

“Any other surprises?” Tsukishima asked in a strained voice. He wasn’t sure if he could take anymore.

“My leg was really sore when I got here, but they said nothing was broken. They said I have a bit of a concussion as well.”

“Fuck,” Tsukishima muttered under his breath.

“Hey,” Kuroo said, grasping Tsukishima’s shoulder. “It could have been a lot worse. I’m trying to consider myself lucky.”

Tsukishima quickly turned his head, locked eyes with his boyfriend, and sighed deeply. He was right. It didn’t make it easier, but Kuroo was right. He needed to be positive.

“Now come sit with me,” Kuroo said, patting the small amount of space beside him on the bed.”

Tsukishima kicked off his shoes and pulled his feet up on the bed, careful not to jar Kuroo too badly.

“Your hair,” Tsukishima said, gently touching the ends of Kuroo’s hair.

“What’s wrong with it?” Kuroo asked. “Really Tsukki, given the circumstances,” he grinned.

“It’s so… flat.”

“Oh,” Kuroo said. “They had to wash it. I have an ugly cut up there,” he said, pointing to a spot just above his right temple. Tsukishima looked closer to see several stitches sealing a slightly bloody gash. He winced at the sight.

“Have you slept?” Kuroo asked, changing the subject.

Tsukishima thought about lying, but that second of hesitation said it all. Kuroo could read him too well. “No,” he said. “What about you?”

“No.” Tsukishima could have guessed. Not only were his eyes surrounded by dark circles indicative of a head wound, but they were bloodshot and exhausted looking. “They were monitoring me for a concussion so I wasn’t allowed.”

Tsukishima’s right hand found Kuroo’s left, and Kuroo interlaced their fingers, giving Tsukishima’s hand a quick squeeze.

“Where are your parents?” Tsukishima asked.

“Out of town. I haven’t told them.”

“They’re going to freak out.”

“I know. I can’t stomach it right now. I’ll tell them later.”

“How long are they gone?”

“End of the week.”

“Is your car trashed?”

“Yeah. It’s an old car and isn’t worth much. It’ll be a write off.” He sighed.

“I’m sorry,” Tsukishima said. He knew Kuroo loved his little white civic. He’d had it since he turned 16. It had been a gift from his uncle. He’d modified it quite a bit, making it run better, not to mention faster and louder.

“It’s just a car.” He said, but Tsukishima knew he was more torn up than he let on.

Tsukishima was about to reply, when his phone vibrated in his pocket. He would have ignored it once, maybe even twice, but it vibrated five separate times.

“What’s up?” Kuroo asked.

He fished his phone out of his pocket to see the sender.

> Hinata(5)

Shit. He’d forgotten that he was schedule to work with him this morning.

“It’s Hinata.”

He opened the messages.

> Hinata: OMG
> 
> Hinata: I saw there was an accident last night on the news this morning
> 
> Hinata: Then I came to work and Trace said you were away because your friend was in a car accident
> 
> Hinata: It’s Kuroo isn’t it???
> 
> Hinata: Is he ok?!

“News travel fast?” Kuroo asked, good naturedly.

“Apparently it was on the news. He’s at work and my boss said I called in. I guess even an idiot like Hinata can put the pieces together. What should I tell him?” Tsukishima asked.

“You can tell him what happened. Just tell him I’m ok.”

He wanted to protect his boyfriend’s privacy, but somehow he doubted Hinata would be able to keep it quiet.

> Tsukishima: Yeah it was Kuroo. He’s still in the hospital but he’s ok. Please keep it to yourself.
> 
> Hinata: OMG poor Kuroo! Tell him I said get better soon!
> 
> Hinata: I told Kageyama
> 
> (Hinata is typing…)

Crap. Tsukishima looked up as Kuroo’s phone made a quiet beeping noise.

> Hinata: And Kenma…

Tsukishima looked up at Kuroo, who was smiling. “Is that Kenma?”

“Yep,” Kuroo said.

“That brat,” Tsukishima cursed.

“It’s fine.”

> Tsukishima: Stop telling people.
> 
> Hinata: Sorry. We won’t tell anyone else.
> 
> Hinata: I thought Kenma should know.

Tsukishima locked his phone and tossed it on the nightstand, half annoyed.

“Sorry. He can’t keep anything to himself."

“It’s fine. Kenma would have killed me if I hadn’t told him anyway. Better that he knows. And I’m glad you and Hinata are friends now.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that he’s an idiot.” Tsukishima muttered.

He hadn’t been able to stand Hinata or Kageyama from the day he met them. They were loud and childish and impulsive and obnoxious. It was everything Tsukishima couldn’t stand. But somehow, towards the end of their first year playing volleyball together, they’d developed a certain trust and respect for each other, and it had managed to channel itself into a weird unlikely friendship. Hinata had even gotten Tsukishima hired at the sporting goods store that he’d just started working at. Though Tsukishima liked to tell himself that he could have gotten hired without Hinata’s help.

“I think we’ll be seeing the three of them later,” Kuroo said.

“Probably. They’re like a weird threesome that doesn’t go anywhere without each other.”

“Makes sense,” Kuroo laughed. “Kenma and Hinata have been pretty close since first year of high school, and now that Kageyama and Hinata are dating, I can see it. But who are we to judge what’s weird?”Tsukishima shuddered slightly, not liking where the idea or the conversation was going. Kuroo snickered slightly.

Tsukishima shuddered slightly, not liking where the idea or the conversation was going. Kuroo snickered slightly.

Tsukishima picked up his phone once more, holding it out of Kuroo's view. 

> Tsukishima: Do me a favor. If you show up later, bring Kuroo a decent blanket. Thanks. 


	2. Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm working on way too much right now... but this is kind of my fun story at the moment. Sorry in advance for any typos or errors! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

“I see you found your friend,” a female voice said.

Tsukishima looked up to find a young looking woman with pink scrubs and amber hair tired up in a ponytail at the back of her head. He assumed this was one of Kuroo’s nurses.

Tsukishima hesitated, instinctively pulling away from Kuroo slightly. A) he wasn’t sure if he was allowed on the bed, and b) he generally tried to keep his sexuality to himself, if not at least keeping public displays of affection down. Kuroo however had other ideas most of the time, including now, as he grasped Tsukishima’s hand tightly and held onto him.

“It’s alright if you sit with him,” she said with a smile, apparently catching onto his hesitation.

Tsukishima mumbled a quiet “thanks” in response.

“Are you hungry, Kuroo-san?”

Tsukishima felt his cheeks redden as his stomach growled audibly. Kuroo grinned quickly at him, then answered in the affirmative.

She returned moments later with a large bowl of soup with crackers and two separately packaged muffins. She’d clearly heard Tsukishima’s stomach growl too.

Tsukishima climbed carefully off the bed, making room so the nurse could set the tray over Kuroo’s body.

“Thanks,” they both said.

Kuroo winced as he pulled himself into more of a sitting position, and while Tsukishima caught it, he didn’t say anything. It was so difficult to see Kuroo so weakened and broken. It wasn’t like him at all. He was also so proud and so strong, no matter what.

“Do you want the soup?” Kuroo asked, a trace of pain still hanging in his words.

“No, you eat.”

“At least take this,” he said, tossing Tsukishima one of the separately wrapped muffins.

“Fine,” he said, catching the horribly tossed muffin and pulling apart the plastic.

He watched idly as Kuroo picked up his spoon and dipped it into the steaming hot bowl of what looked like some kind of chowder.

Tsukishima tore of a piece of the muffin, but stopped a few inches from his mouth as he watched Kuroo spill half of his spoonful all over himself. Both boys locked eyes, mouths open with their food suspended only inches from their face. Kuroo’s cheeks reddened, and Tsukishima’s eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline.

“Oh my God, you’re kidding me,” he said flatly.

“I’m trying to eat left handed! And my hands are shaky as hell!” Kuroo protested, dumping the spoon back into the bowl and retrieving his napkin.

Not often did Tsukishima see Kuroo get flustered. He couldn’t help but laugh.

“Jerk,” Kuroo mumbled, trying to dab some of the soup off of his sling. Unable to move his head enough because of his neck brace, he missed a large chunk of what looked like a carrot just below his chin.

“Give me that,” Tsukishima said, unable to watch his boyfriend struggle any longer. He’d wanted to preserve Kuroo’s dignity by letting him feed himself, but he could see that all hope of that was lost. He abandoned his muffin and took the napkin from Kuroo’s still slightly shaking hand, cleaning his boyfriend up. He could feel Kuroo studying him carefully, but he avoided his glance. “Soup was an awful idea.”

“Are you going to feed it to me?” Kuroo asked. His wicked grin was absent, and Tsukishima had a feeling that he didn’t like the idea anymore than he did himself, but he was doing his best to write it off as a joke.

“Yes, I am.” He moved closer to Kuroo, trying to position himself properly so he could efficiently feed his boyfriend like a baby. Without even thinking about it, he glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching. This had to be demoralizing for Kuroo.

_Oh well, at least it’s me and not some stupid nurse._

He found a comfortable spot, crossing his legs and facing Kuroo before leaning in for the soup. Kuroo grinned widely at him. Tsukishima rolled his eyes and dunked the spoon in the soup. It was awkward because he too was using his left hand. If he’d wanted to use his right he’d need to move to sit on the other side of Kuroo, and as that was his injured side, he didn’t want to take any chances.

“Can you lean forward?” Tsukishima asked, holding the soup at mouth level.

“Nope,” he said stubbornly.

“Fine,” Tsukishima replied, holding up his other hand to steady himself. Kuroo opened his mouth and Tsukishima successfully landed his first scoop.

Kuroo swallowed and laughed. “Thanks. But you’re pretty shaky yourself.”

“Yeah well maybe I’m still worked up from this morning. Do you want me to help you or not?”

“Yes please. I like having you take care of me like this.”

“Don’t kid yourself. You just like the attention.”

“So? Is that bad?”

Tsukishima clicked his tongue and continued spoon-feeding his boyfriend until all the soup was gone. If that’s what it took to get him to eat, he’d gladly keep doing it.

Scoop by scoop he fed him, and they remained mostly quiet aside from the odd giggle here and there. Tsukishima found it to be much more romantic than he’d originally thought it could be. And yet by the time he was finished, he handed the napkin to Kuroo, but Kuroo instead wrapped his good hand around the back of Tsukishima’s neck and pulled him close, kissing him deeply. The odd angle was uncomfortable for Tsukishima, since Kuroo couldn’t pull his body forward nor tilt his head, and when he finally pulled away, they both smiled.

“Thanks,” Kuroo said.

“Don’t mention it,” Tsukishima replied.

As if on cue, the nurse returned to take the plates away, gushing slightly at how ‘cute’ the two of them were. Tsukishima had a sneaking suspicion that she’d watched at least some of the show from the doorway. He couldn’t be bothered by it though.

“Kuroo-san, you’re welcome to try to get some sleep now if you’d like. We’re done monitoring your for concussion symptoms.

“When can he go home?” Tsukishima asked.

“The doctors want to keep him at least tonight for observation. We’ll see how his leg is tomorrow, but as long as he can’t walk on it, he can’t use crutches, so it might be better for him to stay a couple of days.” She informed them. She picked up a clipboard from a cubby on the wall and jotted something down, glancing up and then back down from the monitor beside Kuroo’s bed.

“Thanks,” Tsukishima said, hiding his disappointment. He’d really hoped he could take Kuroo home tonight.

“Get some rest, Kuroo-san.” She said, taking her leave.

“You don’t have to stay,” Kuroo said to Tsukishima, who was readjusting himself back against the headboard again.

“I’m not going anywhere. But you should get some sleep,” Tsukishima said, gently brushing Kuroo’s dark bangs out of his eyes.

“Quit it,” Kuroo said playfully, sweeping his hair back across his forehead. Tsukishima loved to brush all of his hair back, but Kuroo insisted that he liked it there, and would always put it back. Despite how confident and composed Kuroo always seemed, Tsukishima always thought it was one weak point in his confident demeanor, and the ability to hide behind his hair made him more comfortable while facing the world.

“Does anything hurt?” Tsukishima asked quietly, his hand finding Kuroo’s. He wished he could wrap his arms around him properly, but he knew he couldn’t move him. It would likely be some time before he could hug him properly. It made him sad.

“Not really,” Kuroo replied quietly. “My shoulder is fine as long as I don’t move. My neck is sore though. It’s more of a dull ache now with the painkillers. It was worse earlier.”

“The brace helps?”

“Yeah. I don’t have to work much to keep my head up. I can’t keep it more than a couple of days though or the muscles will get weaker.”

“I’m sorry this happened to you,” Tsukishima said, attempting to cuddle closer to him without hurting him.

“I’m just happy you’re here.”

“You should try to get some sleep,” Tsukishima offered, looking up at Kuroo.

“What about you?”

“I can amuse myself. I have my computer and my homework with me. I can put a movie on if you want?”

“That would be nice. Will you stay on the bed with me?” Kuroo asked hopefully.

Tsukishima couldn’t help but smile at him.

He set up the computer on a tray that wheeled under and across the bed, holding the screen a few inches above their legs. Kuroo picked a cheesy romantic comedy, saying he needed a feel good movie, and Tsukishima couldn’t exactly say no.

“Aren’t you hungry? You should go get something to eat,” Kuroo asked as Tsukishima climbed back onto the bed next to him.

“I’ll finish that muffin,” he said, remembering just how hungry he was. But he refused to leave Kuroo, even if it was just to go find some food. He’d worry about that later. He felt Kuroo’s concerned glance out of the corner of his eye, but he ignored it as the MGX introduction screen played across his computer. Kuroo grasped Tsukishima’s free hand, but remained quiet.

“We’ve seen this,” Tsukishima said as the first scene played out.

“So? This is one of my favourite movies,” he insisted, squeezing Tsukishima’s hand.

Tsukishima sighed, biting his tongue.

“You’re being too nice to me,” Kuroo said after a few minutes.

“You expect me to be mean?”

“No, I just expect you to be you. I’m not going to break if you say the wrong thing. Just be normal ok?”

Tsukishima felt his face heat up. It was true, he didn’t feel himself. He was still shaken and scared and wasn’t sure how to act.

“Try and get some sleep,” Tsukishima said.

Kuroo just smiled affectionately.

And he did. Not ten minutes into the movie, Tsukishima noticed Kuroo’s breathing had slowed and he’d even started to snore a bit. He watched him for a couple of minutes, taking in the peaceful form in front of him, feeling grateful for his presence. He knew too well that he could have lost him last night. Just like that, he could have been gone. Kuroo had told him to be himself, but somehow, his usual attitude didn’t seem appropriate anymore.

Legs falling asleep, he managed to slowly and carefully extract himself from the bed, moving onto to the chair beside him. He muted the laptop and quietly pulled it off the stand, glancing back at Kuroo. He hadn’t moved. He was out.

He grabbed his backpack and retrieved his headphones, looping them around his neck before glancing up to look around the room. His eyes landed on a chair across the room, and he stood up to quietly drag it towards him, setting it across from the cozy chair he’d been sitting in. He kicked off his shoes, propped his legs up on the second chair and settled himself comfortably with his laptop in his lap. He set his headphones on his head, leaving his right ear uncovered, the speaker just off his ear in case Kuroo stirred. He opened his studying playlist, then dug into his school file. He had an immunology exam tomorrow, then work right after. He was seriously contemplating calling in sick again to work, but he doubted he could avoid his midterm.

He stared idly at the PowerPoint presentation turned PDF, scrolling slowly through slides, not really absorbing much. He kept glancing over his shoulder to make sure Kuroo was still asleep. Or rather, to make sure he was still there.

It scared him, and it made him realize how fragile life was. He’d always taken for granted that Kuroo would just be there. But things could change so quickly.

He wasn’t sure how long he stared at the computer before passing out, but even once asleep, he had disturbing dreams of waking up to find that Kuroo was no longer there, or to find that he’d fallen into a coma, or worse, passed away while Tsukishima was sleeping.

He awoke with a start, taking only a split second to remember where he was, and more importantly than the where was the why. He quickly glanced to his right to ensure that Kuroo’s blurry form as indeed still beside him. His second question was where the hell his glasses had gone. He didn’t remember taking them off.

“Here,” the voice came from the blurry form. “They were sliding off your face.”

His glasses came into view, and he took them and slid them back onto his nose, his vision clearing instantly.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, his voice hoarse.

Kuroo was wide awake beside him, his cell phone lit up in his lap. “Did you have a nice nap?”

“How long was I asleep for? Why didn’t you wake me up?” He demanded. He didn’t like the idea of Kuroo feeling alone again. He was supposed to be here to keep him company. That was hardly effective when he was snoring beside him.

“I’m not sure. I was asleep too,” Kuroo said. His voice sounded slightly different than before, like it had a kind of airiness to it.

“How was your nap?” He asked, pulling himself into more of a sitting position between the two chairs. His neck was aching and his back hurt but it was hardly his place to complain.

“I slept alright before the nurse came in and woke me up,” he said.

“Why’d she do that??”

“More tests, more drugs.”

“What kind of drugs?”

“New painkillers. I feel like I’m floating,” Kuroo said, his eyes rolling back toward the ceiling.

Had he been in pain? Why had they switched his meds? How had he not picked up on the fact that Kuroo was hurting that badly. He mentally kicked himself. Of course he was hurting. Kuroo was a master at hiding his own pain. He’d sprained his ankle once at volleyball and played through the rest of the game. Tsukishima hadn’t realized how bad it was until that evening after they’d been sitting around for a while and the ankle had swollen to twice its size.

“Are you ok?”

Kuroo just grinned. “Don’t worry.”

“That’s not an answer,” Tsukishima said, sitting up fully in his chair and folding his laptop up.

Kuroo was about to reply, no doubt another attempt to evade the question, when they heard familiar voices outside of the door.

“KUROO-SAN!” Hinata’s voice pummeled the room, his voice echoing off every wall as he threw himself at Kuroo.

Tsukishima was on his feet in an instant, catching Hinata before he whirled himself full force at his injured boyfriend. “Calm down,” he said. “You don’t just jump on someone when they’re clearly in no fit state.”

Hinata looked up, puzzled, then back at Kuroo, putting two and two together. It really amazed Tsukishima how natural selection hadn’t gotten to Hinata yet.

“Sorry!” He grinned, dropping a hand behind his head.

“Kuroo,” the small voice came from the doorway. Tsukishima knew who it was before he even turned to look. Spending nearly every day with Kuroo meant seeing a lot of Kenma, his childhood best friend, as well. When Tsukishima’s eyes finally did lock on the blonde, he looked like he was going to cry. He stood in the doorway, his arm laced through a plastic shopping bag and a large blanket grasped tightly in his hands.

Tsukishima could hardly blame him. He’d had the same reaction.

“Kenma,” Kuroo smiled.

The smaller boy slowly made his way over to the bed where he took Kuroo’s hand and leaned into him for a hug.

Tsukishima awkwardly turned away, looking back at Hinata. “Where’s Kageyama?”

“Practice,” Hinata said.

“By himself?” Tsukishima asked. They all played on the same team, and as far as he could remember, they didn’t have a practice scheduled.

“Yep. Hey we brought food!” Hinata said, gesturing to the bag on his arm.

Kenma had leaned back from Kuroo, their private conversation seemingly finished. Kenma was now covering Kuroo with the cat-patterned duvet he’d brought with him. Kuroo seemed to be protesting.

“What are you going to use?!” Kuroo demanded.

“There are other blankets in the house,” Kenma insisted. Apparently he’d brought the duvet from his own bed.

They’d brought finger food type snacks that Kuroo could actually eat on his own accord. They’d even brought him grilled salted mackerel on a stick, which Tsukishima knew was his favourite food. He watched quietly as Kenma and Hinata sat at the end of his bed and laughed while enjoying the snacks. It was nice to see that genuine smile back on his boyfriend’s face.

“Tsukki eat some of this already!”


	3. The day from hell - Kuroo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What happens when your workload at school increases? Obviously your productivity level increases! Too bad it was in the wrong place... oh well, back by popular demand! Chapter 3!  
> I do have the next chapter somewhat mapped out. We'll be seeing another couple of characters and we'll probably be back to Tsukki's view. I just had to try Kuroo's.

“Good morning, Kuroo-san.”

Nooo, not yet. He was so calm and felt so good. His mind protested profusely at the prospect of being dragged from it’s state of dreamy unconsciousness.

“Good morning, Kuroo-san,” the voice came again, a little louder this time.

“Kuroo-san, can you hear me?”

The voice was soft and sweet and distinctly feminine, yet incredibly agitating. He wasn’t even sure why.

“Kuroo-san?” It was closer this time, and accompanied by a hand on his shoulder.

His eyes flickered, and he was face-to-face with the pale, young looking, blonde haired nurse.

“Good morning,” she said softly, smiling down at him. “I’m Leanne, your nurse for today.”

The light was pouring into his room despite the fact that all the lamps were off, and he clenched his eyes against the brightness. Damn windows, he thought to himself.

“How are you feeling?” She asked him.

He grunted an incoherent word at her, then closed his eyes again. He felt like he’d just fallen asleep after being awake for days. He just wanted to go back to sleep, was that really so much to ask?

“I’m sorry to bother you, but I need give you your medication,” she said. “Can you tell me your full name?”

He could feel her digging through his blanket and gently tugging the wristband on his left arm. If he was asked to recite his own name and date of birth one more time while he should be sleeping he swore he was going to snap.

“Kuroo Tetsuro. November 17th,” he said.

“Thank you,” she said with a soft giggle, letting go of his arm. “Clearly you’ve memorized the standard questions!”

Just the tone of her voice made it difficult to be angry with her. He shifted his head slightly, but grimaced against the pain that began in his neck and radiated down to his shoulder, his collarbone and his arm. He was still wearing the sling, his arm propped up on a pillow, but the night nurse had removed the neck brace when he’d gone to sleep. If possible, it hurt more today than yesterday.

“Are you having pain?” She asked, her tone indicating that she was expecting him to say yes.

“Yeah,” he whispered.

“In your neck?”

“Yeah, and my shoulder.”

“On a scale of 0-10, how bad?”

“8.” He’d been asked this series of questions so many times now that he had in memorized. He’d been rating his pain in his head all night long.

“Hang on, ok? I’m going to hook up your IV.”

He waited patiently as she fiddled with the catheter taped to his right hand, for which he was now grateful. He hadn’t been impressed when the nurse who had inserted it screwed up and spilled his blood all over the bed, but at least it meant no more needles now that it was stuck there.

He kept his eyes closed as he listened to her fiddle with the bag on the IV stand, willing himself to push through it. It was just pain. He wasn’t dying. He was ok.

But still, somehow it scared him. He felt unsafe and not in control. It was a weird feeling for him. Everything from the feelings to the room to the pain felt so far away from familiar.

“There, you should feel that kick in pretty quickly,” she said. “Do you feel ok otherwise?”

“Yeah,” he said, focusing on keeping himself still. He had a slight headache, but it wasn’t quite noteworthy.

“You alright to answer a few more questions?”

“Mhm, he mumbled.”

“You know where you are?”

“Tokyo hospital,” he replied. Again, more routine questions apparently. No, he still hadn’t forgotten where he was.

“And the date?”

“November 27th?”

“Awesome. I’m going to raise the head of your bed and get the brace back on, sounds good?”

“Sure.” What was he going to do? Say no?

It hurt, but he survived. He quietly answered the rest of her questions and played along as she assessed him from head to toe. She wouldn’t let him get out of bed to go to the bathroom, claiming he wasn’t steady enough yet and he needed to wait for some of his medications to set in and handing him a small disposable urinal.

That might have been the worst part about being here. Nothing was private, and he had control over nothing. Aside from that, when his friends weren’t around, he was bored out of his mind, left with only his pain and his predicament to keep him company. It was depressing as hell.

“Breakfast will be here soon,” she said. “Let me know if you need anything.” She tied his call bell around his bed rail and left the room. He reached under his pillow and extracted his phone, using his mouth to pull out the charging cable.

This really sucked. He was so ready to go home, but they kept talking about things like tests and physio and further assessments. He felt so in the dark about everything. And god he wasn’t even allowed to go to the bathroom. He thought he actually might cry.

He felt like his life was over. He couldn’t play volleyball, he couldn’t work, he couldn’t drive, he wasn’t even going to be able to fucking dress himself for the foreseeable future. Hell, he couldn’t even hold his own goddamn head up. What a joke.

He missed Tsukishima. Somehow, with him around, everything felt a little brighter. He’d wanted to spend the night, but the nurses had kicked him out around 10pm, not that Kuroo would have let him stay if he was allowed. He knew his boyfriend had an exam in the morning, and despite the fact that he probably wouldn’t be studying, he could at least sleep in his own bed and hopefully be somewhat awake for it.

He, on the other hand, had been woken up every four hours to take pills and have blinding lights shone in his eyes. And they wondered why he was bitter and reluctant to open his eyes?

Breakfast arrived, as promised, about fifteen minutes later. He had to double check the list of menu items he’d selected, as the scrambled eggs looked nothing like eggs and the oatmeal looked like it had already been eaten once and regurgitated, not to mention the smell. That was enough to kill his appetite. He managed half a piece of toast, most of which ended up all over his shirt, before pushing the tray away in frustration.

He sighed, leaning his head back as far as it would go in the restrictive brace, then pulling his phone to eye level to check the time. Even that friggen hurt.

8:16.

Tsukishima should have been awake by now. Kuroo was surprised and slightly hurt that he hadn’t received any messages from when he’d first said he was going to sleep. He’d been tempted to text on the many occasions he’d been woken up, but he hadn’t wanted to bother Tsukishima. Now he felt a little irritated at the idea that his boyfriend had slept soundlessly and without worry while he’d been up all freaking night getting poked and prodded.

He caught himself though. He was becoming irrational. He _wanted_ Tsukishima to get a good sleep. He didn’t want him awake all night worrying.

But at the same time, if he was awake all night, that meant he cared, right?

His head was a mess, and it was getting fuzzier. He felt like the room was beginning to spin, and he wasn’t sure if it was all in his mind or if he was actually becoming dizzy.

Then a wave of nausea rolled over him, and he knew that it wasn’t in his head. He instinctively and somewhat painfully reached across his body for the call bell, pressing the large red button. His stomach churned and threatened to empty what little contents it contained.

The nurse entered the room just as his stomach violently ejected, a strangely large amount of vomit finding its way across his body and down his front.

“Oh my, hang on, Kuroo-san,” she said.

He could barely hear her, his stomach still violently and painfully retching. He couldn’t control the movements, and it jarred his body terribly.

She had a basin in front of him the second time, and she remained standing over him, her hand gently placed on his back as he dry heaved, coughing painfully against the phlegm now embedded in his throat.

“When you feel like you can, tell me if you have any pain,” she said, still kindly, but assertively.

“My head hurts,” he managed. “And I feel really dizzy.”

“Ok, keep this,” she said, putting the basin in his good hand. “I’ll clean you up in a second, I promise. I just need to measure your vitals.”

He did as he was told, but barely heard what she was saying.

She returned seconds later, pulling the top blanket off of him and draping a clean one over him. “This is just for a minute,” she said. He still had vomit on his sling, though she handed him a face clothing to wipe his face and hands.

She slipped the finger clip onto his finger and placed her own fingers on his wrist, checking his pulse.

“Dizzy, you say?” She said as the machine beeped.

“Yeah,” he said, leaning back against the bed, his body now relaxing.

“No wonder,” she said. “Your O2 saturation level is really low.”

He had no idea what that meant, but he heard a whishing noise behind him, and she was quickly strapping an oxygen mask to his face. “Just until we get those numbers up, ok? I’ll grab you a drink a second.”

He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the spinning sensation, the aching in his head and the taste of bile in his mouth. How had he even managed to throw that much up? He hadn’t eaten that much and there was no way his dinner from last night would still be in his stomach.

He felt the blood pressure cuff inflating painfully around his left arm, but it hardly fazed him. He was so used to this now.

“I need to take your temperature, please open up,” she said, pulling the mask up but not off his nose. He did as told, and she tucked the thermometer under his tongue. Seconds later, it beeped and she pulled it out, replacing the mask. It was cold and uncomfortable and noisy, but felt the dizziness slowly subsiding within a couple of minutes.

“Hmm, I’m not sure if you’re reacting to the medication, but I’m going to cut the flow just until we make sure. This is the first time we’ve had you on this drug, so I’d like to see if the symptoms pass on their own. Please let me know if the pain gets bad and I’ll get you something else.

He couldn’t really speak or nod, so he gave her an awkward thumbs-up.

“I’ll get you cleaned up and hopefully by then we’ll have your oxygen levels back up. You had a bed bath when you first got here, right?”

He simply stared at her. He didn’t remember anything from the night he’d arrived. He didn’t even remember calling Tsukishima. He’d been on too many painkillers and his system had been in complete and utter shock.

He was scared. He didn’t know exactly what a bed bath was, but he could put the pieces together based on the name. That did not sound at all appealing, especially given by someone who couldn’t be more than a couple years older than him. He was afraid of the dizziness he’d felt, of the nausea and pain it had caused coming up. What the hell was that? What was happening to him? He wanted to go home, and the worse he felt, the dimmer that reality seemed. He missed his boyfriend; he needed a familiar face and a hand to hold to get him through this, though he’d never say it out loud.

“Don’t worry, ok? I’m sure you’re feeling anxious. I’m just going to get you cleaned up, change your bedding and your gown and we’ll get you comfortable again. You’ll feel better after, I promise. Give me a thumbs-up when you’re ready.”

Again, her hand was on his shoulder and her voice was comforting, but she was still a stranger. He watched her for a second, feeling the anxiety creeping up his spine. What was he going to do? Say no? Sit there covered in his own puke?

Finally, against his better judgment, he gave her a thumbs-up.

She smiled, then pulled the curtain around his bed for privacy then ducked out to collect her supplies.

It wasn’t as bad as he’d expected. She did a good job keeping him relaxed and protecting his privacy as much as possible. She talked soothingly to him the entire time, and by the end of it, he was comfortably situated in his bed with new pajamas (with pants instead of a gown this time!), a new sling and a new brace. He did feel better now that he was clean. She’d even offered to wash his hair, but he’d declined.

And good thing, too, because she slid the curtain back open to reveal Tsukishima, standing in the doorway with a very concerned look on his face.

“Is this your friend? Here, we can switch you to nasal prongs so you can talk properly. O2 sats look much better now,” she smiled, pulling the mask off his face and replacing it with a tube that fed around his face, atop his ears and set two prongs into his nostrils. It wasn’t comfortable, but it was much better than the mask.

“You alright for a minute?” She asked.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice sounding strained. “Thanks.”

“Call bell is there,” she said, letting herself out.

“What happened?” Tsukishima asked, sounding frantic as he approached the bed.

“It’s so good to see you,” Kuroo said, hearing the relief in his own voice. He reached up for his boyfriend, only to find the stupid monitor on his finger in the way.

“Relax,” Tsukishima said, sitting on the bed next to him, pulling Kuroo’s hand onto his knee and placing his own overtop. “Your hands are so cold. Are you ok?”

“Yeah,” he lied. “I think I just had a weird reaction to one of the medications. Don’t worry.” He wasn’t about to admit how scared or helpless he’d felt to Tsukishima. He was the older one, after all. He needed to be strong for both of them. He knew what this ordeal was doing to Tsukishima and he wasn’t about to let it get any worse if he could help it.

“Kuroo…” Tsukishima said, his hand clenching Kuroo’s.

“Really, Kei,” he said, focusing intensely on the other’s light brown eyes, perfectly textured near his pupils with flecks of gold. “I’m ok.”

“Ok,” Tsukishima finally said with what sounded like a sigh of relief. “I believe you.”

Kuroo heaved his own sigh, though it was thankfully masked by the fact that he couldn’t move his shoulders much and the oxygen was flowing so loudly into his nose that it hid everything he might otherwise hear.

“What are you doing here? Don’t you have an exam?” Kuroo asked, feeling his self-control returning to him for the first time today.

“Yeah. I got up early so I could come see you before I went. I didn’t hear from you all night so I was hoping that meant you got a good sleep.”

“Yeah, I slept pretty well,” Kuroo said, forcing his tone to remain completely neutral. “What about you?”

“Same,” Tsukishima said. Kuroo was 99% sure he was also lying, but he wasn’t going to be hypocritical and call him on it. He could tell by the bags under his boyfriend’s eyes that he was nowhere near as composed as he outwardly appeared. It made him wonder if Tsukishima could also see through his façade.

“You slept with your phone under your pillow, didn’t’ you?” Tsukishima asked.

“Yeah,” Kuroo said, forcing a slight laugh.

“I figured. I didn’t want to text you and wake you up,” Tsukishima said with a soft, sincere smile.

This was so not like him. As much as he kind of liked to see Kei’s sensitive and serious side, he didn’t like that it was only brought out under these circumstances. The emotional exhaustion had forcefully stripped the younger boy down to his raw self, leaving him vulnerable and open, and that Kuroo hated. He _hated_ that it was he who was doing that to Kei. He deserved so much better.

“Ready for your exam?” Kuroo asked.

“Sure,” Tsukishima said.

Kuroo knew he was smart enough to do well without studying, but he was usually so over-prepared for anything school-related. It showed how badly this was affecting him.

“Um, I have to work after class, but I was going to try to see if I could get it off,” Tsukishima said, sounding almost guilty about it.

“No, don’t. You should go to work. Hanging around the hospital is probably not good for you. Besides, you called in sick yesterday.”

“Are you saying you don’t want me here?” Tsukishima asked, a very Tsukki-like grin returning to his face.

“If that’s what it takes,” Kuroo shot back, feeling the sore corners of his own mouth curl slightly.

“I should go,” Tsukishima said, standing up and moving in for a kiss.

“Don’t kiss me,” Kuroo said quickly, moving his hand between their mouths.

Tsukishima looked almost immediately wounded, showing just how vulnerable his soul currently was. Kuroo felt it pierce his heart, and quickly jumped to explain. “I threw up before you got here. I’m sorry, my breath is probably awful.”

It worked, Tsukishima’s despairing frown subsided, and he moved around to kiss Kuroo’s cheek. “You know I don’t care, but I know you do. Make sure your teeth are brushed when I get back tonight.”

“You got it,” Kuroo smiled.

“Text me whenever you have time,” Tsukishima said.

“Yeah, because I’ll be so busy all day,” he laughed.

“See you later.”

Kuroo waited for Tsukishima to leave before finally relaxing against the bed, feeling a lump rise in his throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for readingggg! And to everyone who commented/kudos'd/followed! I appreciate all of your feedback! The only reason this has continued is because of all of you!  
> Thank you <3


	4. The day from hell - Tsukishima

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tsukishima has a rough day away from the hospital. Kuroo seems to have it just as rough. They both try to convince each other that they're ok.  
> And the lovely Oikawa makes an appearance <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh guys I'm back! I'm sorry this took so long! Please accept this extra long update as my apology! I'm really nervous about posting this now since it has so many followers. Anyway, I hope you like it! *trembles nervously*

To say Tsukishima’s exam went badly would be an understatement. To say it was a disaster was slightly more accurate.

He was a fast test writer, but when the instructor walked around the room to collect the exams, he stared at her outstretched hand momentarily debating whose grip was stronger, and what would happen if he just refused to hand it over. He was normally the first one finished in a large room full of test writers. But this time he’d read over the questions and his brain had refused to absorb the words. It wanted to skip over certain words, as though he was skimming, but those words tended to be the ones with all the meaning, leaving him with a sentence like ‘what – are – best – choice?’

He’d forced his brain to learn to read again, but even then he found he couldn’t retrieve the answers he knew that he’d known only days before. He was smart; he did well even when he didn’t study. But today his mind just wasn’t cooperating; it was back in that hospital room with Kuroo.

He should have just handed the stupid thing in after going through it the first time around, but he’d stubbornly sat there convincing himself that if he kept looking at it maybe the answers would come to him. When the instructor announced that there were ten minutes to go, he was sitting there with his head in his hands, pencil on the ground, and nearly every single question starred on his page.

What a fucking disaster.

“Are you alright, Tsukishima-kun?” His teacher had asked him. He was always composed, calm and collected, and today he was none of those things.

“Yeah,” he replied, not making eye contact, but passing the paper to her.

“Surely the content wasn’t that difficult,” she prodded.

“It’s fine,” he said. “I’m just tired.”

“Sleep sure is important. Make sure you get a good night’s sleep tonight.”

She walked away, and he finally looked up, glaring holes into the back of her stupid dress.

Tsukishima took a deep breath, stood up, and headed to the front of the room to collect his backpack. He pulled his phone out and nearly went into cardiac arrest.

11:08. He had exactly 7 minutes to get to work before he was considered late. The drive was typically 15 minutes, and breakfast was definitely out of the question.

He bolted from the room, racing across campus to where he’d parked his car. A piece of paper fluttered on the windshield, and he was about to curse the assholes that went around leaving flyers on cars when he realized it wasn’t a flyer.

It was a parking ticket.

“Seriously?” He nearly shouted, grabbing the stupid thing and glancing at it as he climbed back into his car. He had a parking pass, what the hell?

He glanced up at the sign above the car.

‘Reserved parking to the left’

The sign was on his right.

“DAMMIT!” He smacked the steering wheel, eliciting a loud honk from the horn.

“Just great. Just fucking great,” he swore loudly, jamming the key into the ignition before slamming the car into reverse.

His stomach growled as if to mock him as he weaved in and out of traffic. It would be just his luck to get a speeding ticket in addition to the parking ticket. Today was just really not his day.

“You’re laaaate,” Hinata chimed as Tsukishima hurried through the doors. The store was dead, and a good thing too since he knew his face was flustered as hell. Not a good look for him.

“Thanks tips,” Tsukishima spat.

“Tsukishima, you’re late,” his assistant manager said, walking out of the backroom.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he said, adjusting his tone accordingly.

“You should have called.”

“Sorry,” he said again.

“Everything ok?”

Word must have gotten around about his ‘friend.’

“Yeah, my exam just ran long.”

“Ah. I think Mina wants to see you in the staff room.”

Tsukishima just nodded and headed for the back room. He wondered if he was going to get in trouble for calling in sick the day before, but she’d seemed so understanding at the time.

He was nervous, but at the same time he couldn’t be bothered. His head was a mess and he was already beyond anxious and upset. This was just another hurdle that really didn’t matter.

He knocked gently at the open door, and Mina looked up.

“Tsukishima-kun, come on in. Close the door if you don’t mind.”

He nodded, closing the door then taking a seat in the chair across the desk.

“How are you?”

“I’m fine, is everything ok?” He asked, making himself seem oblivious.

“How’s your friend?” She asked, ignoring his question.

“He’s ok.”

“Has he been released from the hospital?”

“Not yet. I’m not sure when,” he said, averting his eyes. He had so much pent up anxiety that he was afraid he might cry at this point.

“You don’t need to be here, if you have somewhere else to be.”

He looked up at her. Was she really offering to let him leave?

“It’s ok. I called in sick yesterday and I feel bad. I’m here already.”

“Hmm, alright. You just look exhausted, that’s all.”

“I just wrote an exam. It went long so I had to rush to get here. Sorry I’m late.”

“No problem. Why don’t you go grab a coffee, clear your head then come back? We have three closers tonight and the ad is set already, so you can leave early if you like.”

“Yeah, yeah ok,” he said. “If that’s ok.”

“Of course. Do you need anything else?”

“No. I’ll be ok,” he said.

“Alright, take your time. You can send Hinata on break when you get back.”

“Sure. Thanks, Mina-san.”

“No problem. Keep me posted, hey?”

He nodded, then stood up. “Do you want a coffee or anything?”

“No thanks, I’ve already had three this morning,” she laughed.

He forced a smile, then let himself out of the office.

He sighed in relief as he walked around the corner to where the staff lockers were. He pulled his phone out and stuffed the rest of his backpack into the top corner locker. He was one of the few that could reach this high, so it was always empty. He jammed his jacket in after it and closed it, heading back out toward the floor.

“Going for coffee?” Hinata asked him as he emerged back onto the floor.

“Yeah, how’d you – ”

Hinata just grinned at him. He’d obviously said something to their manager. He wanted to be mad, but he knew he’d only done it because he cared. They’d come such a long way from the day they’d first met playing volleyball. They still played on the same team in the same positions, but they were like entirely different people.

“See you in a bit,” Hinata said, flicking up two fingers in a peace sign.

Tsukishima nodded and headed out through the mall entrance. He took leisurely, short steps, intentionally trying to slow himself both physically and mentally. But there was one more thing weighing heavier on his mind than any of the events in the last few hours. He pulled his phone out to find no new messages.

No news was good news, right?

But he had to know.

> Tsukishima: How’re you doing?

He sent the message and pocketed his phone.

He made his way slowly to the food court. It was still slow, but clearly starting to pick up as lunchtime approached. He headed for his favourite breakfast spot and ordered a coffee and a muffin despite the fact that he still felt no desire to eat. He could feel his stomach growling though, so he knew it was probably best.

He couldn’t help thinking about his boyfriend as he leaned against the wall. The first sight had killed him, arm bound in a sling, soft neck brace and covered in cuts, but then seeing him this morning looking pale and exhausted with the oxygen mask over his face had really ruined him. It hurt to think about even now.

Kuroo, usually so strong and stoic…

His phone vibrated as he reached an empty table. He couldn’t reach for his pocket fast enough.

> Kuroo: I’m alright, how was your exam?
> 
> Tsukishima: Fine. But really, how are you?

He saw the dots indicating that he was typing, and he stared at them impatiently, feeling more and more anxious with every passing second. He wondered if he was typing something long, but then he remembered that Kuroo barely had the use of one of his arms.

> Kuroo: I’m ok, babe. You might have to kill my nurse for me when you come back later though.
> 
> Tsukishima: What did she do?
> 
> Kuroo: You’ll see ;)

Tsukishima heaved a sigh of relief. If he was making jokes it meant that he was doing better.

> Tsukishima: Any idea when you can go home?

He’d wanted to ask earlier, but a part of him was afraid to know the answer, and he felt his anxiety rising again. He wanted to blame the beads of sweat forming on the back of his neck on the hot coffee, but he knew it was more of an emotional reaction than anything. He always got warm when he was nervous.

There was no immediate response, and he took a sip of the black coffee, burning his tongue slightly. He winced at the feeling, biting the tip of his tongue against the pain. He flipped the cap off the cup and began mindlessly browsing his twitter. He wasn’t absorbing anything. It was really just a way to take his mind off of the impending answer. Finally it came.

> Kuroo: No idea. They haven’t told me anything.

Tsukishima sighed. Placing the phone down and leaning forward with his elbows on the table, he took off his glasses, closed his eyes and tried to compose himself. It wasn’t working.

RING

He looked down to see Kuroo’s happy, not to mention injury-free and healthy face staring up at him.

He took a deep breath and answered the phone.

“Hey.”

“Hey Tsukki.”

“What’s up?” He asked, trying to keep his tone level.

“I just had a feeling you might be freaking out. Aren’t you at work?”

“I was just grabbing a coffee. Didn’t have time after my test.”

“Ah. You don’t usually drink coffee at work do you?”

“Sometimes.”

“Anything else on your mind?” Kuroo asked. He sounded much more human now than he had this morning.

“Just you.”

“I’m in good hands. Please don’t worry.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” he said.

“What time are you off?”

“Supposed to be 8, but Mina-san isn’t sure she needs me that late. I’ll text you when I’m done. Should I bring food?”

“Nah, don’t worry. Seriously, Tsukki. I’m ok.”

“Ok, if you say so.”

“I do. Now have a good shift.”

“Thanks, I’ll try.”

“Talk later.”

“Yeah, cya.”

He hung up his phone and set it down on the table, stretching his legs out and reaching for his muffin.

He felt a little better walking back into work. He’d psyched himself up as much as possible and pushed all of his anxiety down. He convinced himself that he could put on his happy face for 8 hours and get through it.

That was until the first woman approached him, as he walked back in, hoody still on, no indication that he worked there, and asked him for help.

“You have this jacket?” She asked him, shoving her phone in his face.

He looked back down at the woman, flabbergasted, looking down at his hoody, his coffee, then back at her. That was when the anxiety and frustration crept back up, morphing into rage. He physically had to bite his own tongue take a deep breath before he could speak.

“I’m not actually on shift yet, but I’ll find you someone to help,” he managed, somehow.

“The website said you had it,” she insisted.

“I don’t actually know this department, hang on a second,” he said, ready to explode, glancing frantically around the department, finding all three young girls from the department standing in the fitting room area talking animatedly with one another.

“I need it in black in size large. I’ve already been to three other stores and I can’t find it.”

He inhaled, clenching down on the breath, feeling nearly every muscle in his body tense. “Yuki,” he said, remembering one of the girls’ names. “Can you help this lady?”

“Oh sure,” she said, turning to the woman.

He finally exhaled and hurried to the back room.

He avoided the other associates and the manager. He didn’t think he could handle anymore questions. With any luck he’d be given a mundane task in the back room and he could plug away rearranging shoes.

It didn’t get better after that. He hit the floor and seemed to encounter one idiot customer after the next. He was getting closer and closer to asking to leave early, but he’d managed to hold out this long. The three hours that had passed felt like days.

“How did the size 11 fit?” He forced himself to ask the man in front of him. His wife crinkled her nose.

“It’s too big on him. Is there a size between 10.5 and 11?”

Tsukishima blinked. Then blinked again. “No ma’am, I’m sorry, there isn’t.”

“Could you order one in?”

Three more blinks. _Did she seriously just ask me that?_

“I’m sorry, there is no size between 10.5 and 11 anywhere. Perhaps we could try a different brand? They all fit a little differently.”

“My gosh! We’ll just go look elsewhere then,” she said, standing up and storming away.

“Sorry,” her husband said, kicking off the shoes and leaving them in a heap, sliding his feet back into his sandals and running after her.

He continued to blink on the spot, then shook his head and went to head for the back room. Just as he set his hand on the door, another woman approached him.

“Do you have these in red?” She asked, holding up a white shoe from the wall.

“Sorry, we only have these in white and black, the two you see on the wall?” He said.

“Oh really? You don’t keep more colours in the back?”

_Yes, we keep an entire wall of shoes in the back, hidden because we don’t want to sell them,_ he thought sarcastically to himself. If only he could say what he really felt.

What the heck was with people today?

“No, everything we carry is on the wall.”

She walked away without another word.

He shook his head again, this time making it to the back room.

“Tsukkiiiii help meeeeee!” Hinata wailed as the door closed behind him.

“Don’t call me that.”

“I can’t reach this shoe!”

He clicked his tongue, then pulled the shoe down from where Hinata was reaching.

“Thanks!” He took the shoe and ran out of the back room.

It was refreshing to be thanked.

He took a long sip from his coffee, then headed back out where he was ambushed by a young woman with 4 shoes in each of her hands. “Do you have these in a 6.5?”

She’d managed to grab every popular shoe on the wall, all of the ones that looked like runners but had no function. It was doubtful that they had any in her size, but he took them from her hands nonetheless.

“Oh man, major t-rex!” Hinata laughed, following him into the back room.

T-rex was the term they used for people who grabbed multiple shoes off the wall and somehow managed to have one on every finger when they approached an associate.

“What is wrong with people today?”

“I don’t know. Here, I’ll help. What size?”

“6.5.”

She was furious when he went back onto the floor and explained why none of the three pairs he’d managed to find were running shoes, going off on a rant about how all running shoes were ugly.

He sighed and walked away as she left.

“Do you have these in a 6?” A woman asked him.

“Sorry, 8.5 is my smallest size.”

“Oh, what about a 6.5?”

He just stared back at her, willing himself not roll his eyes.

_What part of SMALLEST did you not get?_

“I’m sorry, we don’t.”

He walked around the corner, pretending he didn’t see a customer waving at him, let the door close behind him in the back room and let his forehead fall against the wall. He resisted the urge to smash it, but only just. Why were people so stupid?!

“Tsukishima! You ok?”

“Fine, just trying to comprehend some people’s stupidity.”

Hinata just laughed at him. This was something they dealt with on a daily basis, but somehow today was just worse. Maybe it was a full moon.

“Can you take these to the front for me?”

“Yeah,” he said, holding out his hand.

As soon as he stepped foot on the floor though, he wished he hadn’t.

“Excuse me,” a woman said to him, very politely in the sweetest possible voice.

“Can I help you?” He sounded like a broken record.

“Do you sell shirts?”

_Are you fucking kidding me?_

Two blinks and he got himself under control.

“Yes ma’am, our clothing department is just over there,” _that huge one that you just walked through to get back here._ “Are you looking for men’s or women’s?”

He pointed her in the right direction, dropped the shoes off and headed to the managers office. “I’ve changed my mind. If I could leave earlier I would really appreciate it.”

* * *

 

Kuroo stared across to the window. It was raining heavily and the wind was blowing the trees around. He wished he had a better view, but there was another patient on the other side of the curtain. _They_ had the nice view.

He wondered how Tsukishima’s test was going. The fact that he could see the anxiety on his face was not a good sign. The blonde was always so good at hiding how he felt, so for it to be shining through like that was cause for concern.

He attempted to take a deep breath, but it hurt. His shoulder was killing him, worse than before.

“You’re late!”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry! I slept through my alarm!”

Kuroo glanced up at the sound. The ward was still quite quiet, so the hisses coming from the nurse’s station were all too audible. He couldn’t hear the rest of the words being exchanged, but he caught site of a lilac blob past his door.

“Yes yes, go home!” The male said. “I’ve got this!”

Kuroo hadn’t seen any male nurses on the ward, but the height and structure, not to mention his voice, indicated there was at least one. His high-pitched, velvety voice sounded kind of familiar.

“You take this room,” a female voice this time. “Room 415 is still empty, but we’re waiting to hear back from emerge on a new admission.”

“Got it. Ok, hi there,” the male voice said, entering the rom. He was looking down at a clipboard, flipping sheets of paper. Kuroo immediately realized why the voice had sounded familiar.

“I’m Oikawa, and I’m your nurse today… Kuroo-san.” He said, looking in surprise at the sheet of paper, chin jumping back into his throat at the realization of the name. His eyes moved slowly to Kuroo.

“Kuroo Tetsuro? Seriously?!”

“Oikawa?”

“No way! It’s been so long!” Oikawa said, moving toward Kuroo’s bed with less hesitation now. “What are you in with?” He hummed, glancing back at his clipboard. “Clavicle fracture, whip lash, leg pain, concussion, bad reaction to hydromorphone, decreased O2 sats, PRN Oxygen prescribed…” he mumbled on. “Damn, what the hell happened to you?”

“Car accident,” Kuroo said.

“Shit, sorry to hear! But good to see you!”

“Right. You’re a nurse?”

“You betcha! Finishing up my RN. Only a few more months and I’m done my preceptorship.”

“I see.”

“Uh, sorry, I guess I’m supposed to ask you if you’re ok with me treating you, since you kind of know me and all?” Oikawa asked.

“Should I be worried?” Kuroo asked suspiciously.

“No, you’re in good hands,” Oikawa smirked. That made him worry more than anything.

“I guess it’s fine then.”

“Alright then, time for a head to toe,” Oikawa smiled, yanking the curtain around his bed.

“A what?”

“I need to check you over, from head to toe,” he grinned.

“You’re kidding me.”

“Nope. I need a baseline for you so I know if anything is changing.”

Kuroo put his good hand to his forehead. “How about we start with the fact that my shoulder is killing me.”

“Ah right, starting from the beginning then.”

“Are you really that anxious to get in my pants? You know I have a boyfriend, right?”

“I’m just bugging you,” Oikawa teases. “So who did you end up with? Bokuto? Kenma?” He worked as he asked questions, strapping the blood pressure cuff around Kuroo’s good arm.

“Somehow I don’t think those are on your list of questions to ask patients.”

“What is your full name?” Oikawa deadpanned. “My questions are much more interesting, and I’m still determining your level of consciousness with them.”

“Neither. I’m dating Tsukishima Kei.”

“The glasses guy from Karasuno? Ok now I’m a bit worried. Let’s check your temperature,” he said, a fake look of concern on his face. “Open up!”

Kuroo glared at him, but did what he was told.

“Ah yes, a little high. I think you may be delirious”

Kuroo raised his eyebrows.

“I’m kidding. But really Tsukishima? Can’t say I saw that coming.” He pulled a stethoscope out of the pocket of his lilac scrubs and flicked it into his ears, gently lifting the edge of Kuroo’s sling so he could listen to his chest.

“Deep breaths, if you can?”

He tried, but it hurt.

“Does it hurt?”

“Yeah, my shoulder,” he admitted. “And my chest a bit I think.”

“You didn’t have any rib injuries, right?”

“Not that I know of,” Kuroo said. “But it hurts to breathe deep.”

“I’m going to get you to sit up and I’ll listen to your back, k?”

“Yeah,” Kuroo said.

Oikawa pressed a button on the side of the bed and the head raised higher up. He pulled himself forward with some difficulty, and Oikawa maneuvered around the gown, listening to his back.

“Hmm, there’s something going on in there I think. Maybe some fluid build up. I’m going to give your doctor a call and see what he thinks. Maybe it wasn’t really a reaction to the medication earlier.”

Kuroo was slightly blown away by how intelligent and professional Oikawa seemed. Sure he was joking around like the idiot he always was, but he had definitely found his calling in nursing.

“You can sit back.”

He did, and Oikawa lowered the head of the bed.

He sat still, watching Oikawa hurry out of the room with purpose. He had to lean forward slightly to see where he was standing at the nursing station, but he saw him pick up a binder and the phone. He felt a small smile come across his face. It was nice to know he cared. Even if he was a nurse, it still felt good.

He leaned back and reached for his phone, trying to ignore the pain in both his shoulder and his chest now. He hadn’t stood up in a while and he wondered if he could. He’d asked late last night and was told to wait for the physiotherapists to visit in the morning.

He had no new messages, which seemed normal since Tsukishima was probably writing his exam still. He was a fast writer, but he hadn’t been gone _that_ long. A part of him wanted to text him, but then he thought maybe there was a chance that his phone would be on in the exam room, and the last thing he wanted to do was get his boyfriend in trouble. No, he would wait a while longer. Surely he would get a text soon.

“Alright, the doctor is going to come visit you as soon as he can. I have your medication though, it should help with the pain,” Oikawa said, bouncing back into the room. It was interesting how you could recognize a volleyball player just by the way they walked, light on their feat and naturally shuffling around obstacles. Oikawa had all the talent in the world when it came to volleyball. He might not have been the best setter in the nation, but he was as well rounded as they came. Kuroo had had the privilege of playing with him once on a jamboree team, and he’d never forget the perfect and effective tosses he’d set for him after only hours of playing together.

“Thanks,” Kuroo said, taking the small cup and tipping it back into his mouth. Oikawa then passed him a glass of water, and he quickly followed with it, despite the awkward angle of his neck. Oikawa’s hand was under his chin, catching the few drops of water that he spilled. His attention to detail was phenomenal.

“Thirsty at all?”

“Not really,” Kuroo said. “It’s kind of hard to drink, and I still feel sort of nauseous.”

“Hmm I see, when did that start?”

“Just after breakfast.”

“Has it gotten any worse? Did it get better after you vomited?”

“A bit, yeah,” Kuroo said as Oikawa checked the tubing still supplying oxygen to his nose, following the line up behind him and fiddling with something above his head.

“Does your breathing feel ok?”

“Yeah,” he said, hating the feeling of the prongs in his nose, but knowing it was probably helping.

“I’ve got a special piece of equipment that might make it easier to drink, hang on,” Oikawa said, ducking out of the room.

Kuroo rolled his eyes once more. Great, more medical equipment, just what he wanted.

But he had to laugh when Oikawa returned with a straw in his hand, beaming like he’d just solved world hunger.

“Here,” he said, popping the straw into Kuroo’s water glass. Try to get some fluids. I’m gonna see about getting you on a saline IV when the doctor comes in. I assume you don’t feel like eating?”

“Nope,” Kuroo said.

“Ok, standard questions, sorry,” Oikawa said.

“Kuroo Tetsuro, November 17th, I’m in Tokyo Hospital and its November 27th.”

Oikawa laughed. “Damn, we just missed your birthday. Happy belated,” he smiled.

“Thanks. Am I allowed to go the bathroom yet?” Kuroo asked.

“I don’t see why not? Do you feel like you can walk there?”

He almost cried tears of joy. Was someone actually going to let him get out of bed? But when Oikawa asked if he was able to, he wasn’t sure how to answer that. He wanted to say yes because he really wanted to get up, but he wasn’t sure how his leg was.

“How about we get you to the commode then I can wheel you to the bathroom?”

“Commode?”

“It’s kind of like a wheelchair but you can put a bedpan in it or just wheel it over the toilet. Point is you can actually go to the bathroom in the bathroom. But only if you feel like you can physically get out of bed.”

He hated this. He just wanted to feel normal, like he could take care of himself. And the thought of Oikawa helping him go to the bathroom and clean himself up after… ugh that made him shudder. Maybe he should have told Oikawa he wanted a different nurse… but no, Oikawa had been great so far.

“Hey, Kuroo, whatever you’re thinking about, stop worrying.” Oikawa said, pulling a plastic looking wheelchair out of what appeared to be a closet.

“Yeah, ok,” Kuroo said.

He made it onto the commode, and he sat there humiliated out of his mind while Oikawa cleaned him up despite his reassurances.

“Kuroo, if I had a dollar for every time I’ve done this I wouldn’t need to work anymore. Just relax please.”

He’d made it back into bed, blanket pulled up and call bell in his hand, but he was close to tears because of the pain. It was horrible, and the last thing he wanted to do was seem weak to Oikawa. The other however had respected his request to be left alone for a while. It wasn’t a mystery that Kuroo was more than a little distraught.

He reached for his phone again, this time finding a message from Tsukishima.

> Tsukishima: How are you doing?

The message alone made him feel better despite the fact that his response was a complete lie.

> Kuroo: I’m alright, how was your exam?
> 
> Tsukishima: Fine. But really, how are you?

He stared at the message. He hated lying, he really did, but he really didn’t have it in him to drag his boyfriend down further.

> Kuroo: I’m ok, babe. You might have to kill my nurse for me when you come back later though.
> 
> Tsukishima: What did she do?
> 
> Kuroo: You’ll see ;)

That had to do it. That had to convince Tsukishima that he was ok.

> Tsukishima: Any idea when you can go home?
> 
> Kuroo: No idea. They haven’t told me anything.

He gave it a couple of minutes, but when his boyfriend didn’t reply, he mustered all elements of composure that he could and called him. It wasn’t easy keeping his voice upbeat, but he managed. Tsukishima sounded like he was doing the same – trying to convince him that he was ok when he wasn’t. He could hear his voice cracking here and there, the exhausted sighs, and the pauses between his words; he really wasn’t doing well. Kuroo hated it. He hated all of it. He really didn’t give a shit about himself at this point, he just hated that he was bringing down Kei.

He did all he could to convince Tsukishima that he was ok, and was confident that he’d helped a bit by the time they hung up. But it left him feeling hollow and empty. He was glad that Kei seemed a bit better, but that didn’t help his own mood as much as he would have liked. Honestly though, it really didn’t matter.

It was near lunchtime when the doctor arrived, ordering new meds, more blood work and another x-ray. By the time he got back to bed he still didn’t have an answer and he was exhausted, in pain, and he just wanted to see his boyfriend.

“Hey Kuroo, I’m going to switch your IV bag again,” Oikawa said, entering the room. “What’s up?”

Kuroo knew his eyes were red and he was holding back tears, without much success. It had been 36 hours of hell and trying to stay strong and composed, and it was all about to burst now. He didn’t want to worry his friends or his boyfriend. He knew how hard this had been on Tsukishima, but now it was catching up with him. Tsukishima wasn’t here, right? But he still hated the idea of crying.

“Kuroo, are you ok?” Oikawa asked, dragging a chair next to his bed, setting the IV bag on the stand and sitting down. He handed him a box of tissues. “I’m not going to judge if you cry.”

“Thanks,” Kuroo said, forcing a laugh. He felt so pathetic. He was really kicking himself now for allowing Oikawa to care for him. He wished he had some little old lady cooing over him instead of an old friend.

“You don’t cry, do you?” Oikawa asked.

“What do you mean?” Kuroo replied. It was rather obvious that he was crying now.

“I mean you’re holding back. You look like you have so much pent up energy that you’re going to explode. Why not just let it out?” Oikawa’s hand found his, tentatively, as if he was ready to pull back should Kuroo even flinch, but he didn’t. He appreciated the support.

“I need to stay composed. For everyone else,” he admitted, feeling his voice tremble. His nose was running now, and he sniffled, feeling weird against the nasal prongs.

Oikawa leaned forward and pulled the tubing out of his nose and off his ears. He folded it up and tossed it behind him, then moved the clip monitor back to his finger, hitting the button to turn on the portable screen beside his bed.

“When you say you need to be composed for everyone else, what do you mean?”

“My friends, Tsukishima, they’re all worried for me. I don’t want to make them worry further.”

“They’re not here right now,” Oikawa urged. “You have no one to remain composed for.”

Kuroo didn’t say anything, but he felt the lump in the back of his throat rearing its head. He wasn’t sure he could stop it this time.

“You know I’m the biggest cry baby on the planet, right? Ask anyone,” Oikawa offered.

“I remember you crying at the jamboree,” Kuroo said, his words nearly failing him.

“Yeah, because Iwa-chan was playing with Kageyama,” Oikawa admitted.

“Really? I thought it was your knee?”

“Probably both,” he chuckled quietly. “Crying is healthy. Holding it in is probably the worst thing you can do. Do you want me to give you some space?”

Kuroo shook his head, grasping Oikawa’s hand. He wished he could drop his head, but the brace kept his chin up on full display for Oikawa to see. He felt stupid, pathetic, humiliated. But the look Oikawa gave him wasn’t what he was expecting. It was lightly sympathetic, but more understanding than anything as he held up a tissue to Kuroo’s eyes, wiping his tears then helping him blow his nose.

Kuroo wiped his eyes on the back of his good hand with some difficulty because of the monitor on his finger. He glanced back up at Oikawa, and found that his eyes were red too. He had to laugh. “Are you seriously crying too?”

“I told you I’m a cry baby!” He wailed. “Don’t judge!”

“No judgment,” he said. It made him feel a bit better though, like he wasn’t alone.

“So tell me,” Oikawa said, sitting down again, “what are you doing these days?”

Kuroo wiped at his eyes again, and Oikawa handed him another tissue. “I’m just working and playing volleyball. Well, maybe not for a while, but yeah. I was a server.”

“And you’re dating Tsukishima. That still blows me away. I was so sure you were into Bokuto.”

“Ahh he and Akaashi have been destined to get married since they were kids. I always knew they’d end up together.”

“Interesting. I’m surprised Akaashi can handle him.”

“So am I. What about you?”

“Ah just finishing school,” Oikawa said, turning away.

“…and,” Kuroo pried.

“And what?!”

“I just cried in front of you! You can at least tell me who you’re dating… not that it’s any mystery. I’ll stick this needle in my eye if it’s not Iwaizumi,” Kuroo said, running his hand over the saline lock in his right hand.

“Wow, that’s a pretty heavy assumption, Kuroo-chan!”

“Am I wrong?”

“No,” Oikawa said, blushing again.

“Why are you blushing?!”

“Because he just asked me to marry him last week!” Oikawa blurted out, holding out his hand to display the gold band on his ring finger.

“Oh wow, congratulations,” Kuroo said, eyes wide at the intricately designed pattern.

“Sorry, this was about you,” Oikawa said, blushing further.

“No, this is good. It’s taking my mind off of things,” Kuroo said honestly. He was feeling better, and while his eyes felt swollen and sticky, he felt like the crying had helped.

“Why are you so worried about your boyfriend anyway? He always came off as a pretty strong person to me,” Oikawa asked, standing up and turning part of his attention back to the IV bag.

“He is… but somehow he’s let me see his weaker side before. I know it’s there, and I know he hides it well. He’ll never come out and tell me he’s not ok… but when it happens I feel so bad for him. I need to be ok for him.”

“But you are ok, aren’t you? Crying or breaking down doesn’t make you not ok.”

“I guess I just need to feel more put together and composed around him.”

“Fair enough. When is megane-chan coming to see you?” Oikawa asked.

“I’m not sure, after work I think? I’m not sure what time.”

Oikawa grinned a devious grin at him. “I’m off work in half an hour. We’ve got some work to do.”

* * *

 

Tsukishima had ended up staying until just after 6, rather than staying until 8. After his miniature breakdown in the back he’d been assigned to stock duty, which was much more up his alley especially in his current state of mind.

It had been better, and he hadn’t been exposed to anymore customers that made him want to rip his eyes out of his head, but in a way it had been worse because he’d just walked back and forth, putting shoes away while thinking about his boyfriend. Or rather, worrying about him.

By the time he finally got out he was a nervous wreck. Hinata had left before him, saying he was going to visit Kuroo with Kenma, and he’d been so jealous that he’d wanted to smack the ginger spiker more than he’d wanted to in a long time.

He’d rushed out of work, not even changing out of his uniform shirt, and all but ran for his car. Of course the rush hour traffic was horrible, and he’d nearly run over two separate pedestrians in his haste to get to the hospital.

By the time he arrived he was flustered, sweaty and annoyed beyond belief. Yet somehow his anxiety had flushed it all down by the time he got to the top of the elevator, and he’d gone back to so worried he wanted to cry.

What he found in Kuroo’s room however, made him feel so many things he wasn’t sure how to even comprehend them.

Kuroo was sitting up in bed. No more neck brace, no more oxygen tubing, with his legs crossed beneath him. He still had an IV in his right hand and the finger monitor on his left. His hair was styled into a nicer version of his usual bedhead. Kenma was sitting on the end of his bed playing his DS, and Hinata was bouncing up and down next to the bed. They all bore sea foam green clay facemasks, and the one administering them was none other than Oikawa Tooru.

“Tsukishima! Look who’s here!” Hinata cried. “We’re doing facemasks to exfoliate our skin!”

Tsukishima’s jaw dropped to the ground, along with his shoulders, leaving all their tension behind.

“You’re kidding me…” the words escaped his mouth before he could stop them. A wave of relief crashed over him, and he felt himself noticeably relaxing as a small smile fell over his face, exercising muscles that hadn’t been touched in what felt like forever.

“Megane-chan! You’re early!” Oikawa wailed. He had scrub pants on with a crew neck sweater. Tsukishima stared at him, confused.

“What are you doing here? Are you the resident beautician?” He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. He sounded like an asshole.

“You know, I could be, I wonder if it pays well,” he said, touching his cheek and smearing some of the green mud on it.

“The Great King is a nurse now!” Hinata squealed.

“Great king?” Kuroo asked.

“A nurse?” Tsukishima added.

“An off duty nurse, now. Well since you’re early, maybe we should do a mask on you too!” Oikawa said, an innocent grin plastered across his face.

“I’m good,” he said, holding up his hands as Oikawa approached him.

“Ah suit yourself. I’m gonna go clean this up,” Oikawa said, walking by him toward the bathroom.

Tsukishima moved quickly toward the bed. Hinata and Kenma were fussing over the video game, so he had his green-faced boyfriend to himself for a minute.

“Sure you don’t want one?” Kuroo asked, taking Tsukishima’s hand.

“I’m sure. How are you?”

“Feeling better,” Kuroo said, smiling.

“You have no idea how glad I am to hear that,” Tsukishima said.

“How was your day?”

He was about to say fine, the automatic response. But then he decided against lying. Maybe it was time to stop hiding everything from Kuroo. Maybe it was time to be honest. “I had the day from hell.”

“I figured. Want to tell me about it?”

Again, he stared down at his boyfriend. The last thing he wanted to do was burden him further. But now that he was here, none of it seemed to matter. Kuroo was ok. He was smiling. He was getting better.

“Honestly, no. I just want to be here with you.”

“There’s nothing I want more,” Kuroo said. “Though it would be nice to be able to hug you.”

Tsukishima rubbed his good arm, then moved in to kiss his lips, narrowly avoiding the green mess on his face.

“You got some,” Kuroo laughed as Tsukishima pulled away.

“Megane-chan, you want some after all?!” Oikawa asked, the bottle clenched in his hand.

“No! Get away from me!” He wailed as Oikawa came after him.

“It’s good for your skin! Your boyfriend will love you more!”

“Ahh!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo I'm not sure if I should continue this. I'm COMPLETELY open to suggestions or feedback! Comments and Kudos mean the world to me!
> 
> Also I think I figured out how to use the tumblr machine... sort of. Don't judge me for my super basic profile ok. But please come chat with me! I love making friends! 
> 
> superiortechnology.tumblr.com

**Author's Note:**

> I like to think I'll continue this one.


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